


That Dirty Shovel In That Cold Winter Night

by Immortalnite



Series: Off The Record (With You) [3]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 03:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14824076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortalnite/pseuds/Immortalnite
Summary: Ryan blinked once. "You shot him.""He was going to kill you."Ryan blinked again. "Yeah. Yeah, he was."





	That Dirty Shovel In That Cold Winter Night

**Author's Note:**

> If you're just coming to this, I really reccomend you go read the other two parts in the series, Off The Record and Hit List first. It'll make more sense.
> 
> This is for elevenaprilflowers, who offered me their left kidney to write a third part. I'm not sure if this is what they had in mind but after watching that Moon River Brewing Q&A, I had to.

Shane ran a thumb across the glossy surface of the counter, slamming the register shut. He flicked all the lights off and locked the front door. All three locks. He stepped out the back door and did the same for that. One could never be too careful. This wasn't exactly a safe neighbourhood, after all.

Stepping back, he ran a quick glance over the front of the little corner store he owned once more. Windows dark, bars in place, properly secured. He nodded to himself and began the walk home.

Shane pulled his coat around him a little bit tighter as the sun began to dip down under the skyline. Los Angeles wasn't quite as unforgiving in winter as New York had been, but the air still got that biting cold that had him bundling up. It was a nice place, though. The city was big enough, new enough, and far enough away that he and Ricky- now Ryan- felt comfortable settling down.

Ryan had enough money stored up (Shane didn't ask from where) that they'd bought and opened a little corner store and a nearby apartment. They figured something as mundane as a grocer was far enough away from their old occupations that they'd be safe from suspicion.  And for the last year, it had been.

Shane wouldn't lie, it hadn't been the easiest. They'd had a few break-ins, a few robberies, but nothing they hadn't been able to handle. Ryan was actually quite adept at dealing with robberies. The first time some masked man had stumbled in, reeking of sweat and desperation, aiming a gun at them with slippery palms, Ryan hadn't even hesitated. He'd shoved Shane down under the counter and swung himself over it, smoothly disarming the man and holding him until the police came. His voice had been steady and calm when he'd explained the situation and handed the man over. Shane's heart had nearly beat a marathon out of his chest over the ordeal. Still, no one had been hurt and no one even suspected the two grocers of being a fugitive murderer and a besotted detective. So, life had been pretty okay. Good, even.

Shane sucked in a deep breath of air that tasted of the city and sea salt. The sky was growing dark and street lamps were popping to life up and down the street. The bars were filling up with rambunctious patrons as people got off work and faint strains of music drifted out the doors. As much as he might miss New York, he couldn't deny that Los Angeles was growing on him.

He turned at the end of the block, heading towards his apartment building. The smell of cigarette smoke coiled around the first floor of the building like a scarf, making Shane cough a little. They'd move somewhere nicer when they had the money, he told himself. He started the climb to the fifth floor, taking the stairs two at a time. Ryan claimed to hate it when he did that.

He started humming when he reached his floor, only to cut himself off when he reached his door.

Even if he was no longer a detective by trade, Shane still had a detective's mind. And eye. So he couldn't help notice the new scratches around their lock, the dusty partial boot print under the handle. Ryan had gone home at lunchtime, so if someone was in the apartment, he would be in there too.

With trembling fingers, Shane twisted the doorknob and slipped into the apartment. His ears strained for any noise as he shut the door silently. He carefully avoided the floorboards that he knew would creak under any weight and give him away. Slipping into a half crouch, he mentally ran through the layout of his apartment. Very faintly, he heard voices from from the living room. He crept through the kitchen, stopping just around the corner so he could listen in without being heard.

"Took me forever to find you, Ricky Goldsworth. Or should I be calling you Ryan Bergara now?" A nasally voice laughed unpleasantly. "You thought you could just run off, huh? Just take your little detective bitch and get off free? Maybe I should call Norris's replacement right now, let him know where his favourite fugitive is at."

"What do you want?" Ryan drawled.

Shane chanced a glance around the corner. There was a large man in a trench coat standing with his back to Shane. In front of him, Ryan was leaning against their little table, arms crossed over his chest. Tension lined his shoulders though his face showed nothing but boredom. Ryan's eyes remained steadily on the man in their kitchen, making it impossible to tell if he'd noticed Shane or not. He was good. Very good.

"What do I want? I want my best dealer back. I want all the money he had, the money he brought in. But he's dead." The large man stepped towards Ryan threateningly. "You killed him, you little bitch."

"A tragedy, I'm sure. What do you want me to do? Say sorry?" Ryan smirked at the man, totally unafraid.

The man lumbered forward and grabbed the front of Ryan's shirt. "You think this is funny? You ruined my life! I can't sell anymore, the police are crawling over my warehouses, my guys all quit on me! I have nothing, you little shit!" The man reached his hand into his pocket, a flash of steel as he drew it out. A gun.

Shane didn't think, he only moved. There was a kitchen in between him and the man, maybe two big steps for him. A knife would be too slow, there was nothing for him to use to knock the man out. Only one option was left.

His fingers closed on the handle of the gun Ryan hid behind the coffee machine.

"I'm gonna kill you and then I'm gonna kill your shitty detective plaything, you fa-"

Bang.

The man slumped to the ground and Ryan stared at Shane. There was blood on Ryan's cheek, flecks of blood and viscera on the wall and table behind him. The hole in the man's head leaked blood onto the tile beneath him.

"I'll clean that up." Shane heard himself say, his ears ringing and head spinning.

Ryan blinked once. "You shot him."

"He was going to kill you."

Ryan blinked again. "Yeah. Yeah, he was."

He lunged forward, over the man's body, and grabbed Shane's jacket, pushing him back against the kitchen counter. And then stopped. Just stopped, his arms tightly around Shane, face pressed into his chest.

Shane forced his fingers to release the handle of the gun and set it down on the counter, wound his shaking arms around Ryan.  He pressed his nose into Ryan's hair, shuddering breaths starting to overtake him.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. We'll take care of this, we'll be fine baby." Ryan lifted his head, his hands smoothing over the back of Shane's jacket.

"I- no. I'm fine. It's not-" Shane took a stuttering inhale and his arms tightened around Ryan. "You're alive. I don't care that he's dead, I just care that you're alive."

Ryan looked up at him for a long moment before stretching up onto his toes to kiss him. It was gentle, tender, barely lasted more than a second and it was so different from the kisses they usually shared that it set Shane's head spinning even more.

"Go sit down for a moment, big guy. I'll take care of this." Ryan's hand brushed his cheek, whisper soft, then gave him a light push towards the living room.

Shane did as he asked, and Ryan opened the pantry. He pulled out their box of trash bags and walked towards the man's body, but left the pantry door open, effectively blocking Shane from seeing whatever was going on. Shane heard the cardboard box get dropped on the floor and Ryan walked back to the kitchen, turning on the stove and setting something on it. He dropped a kiss on Shane's cheek as he passed him on the way to the broom closet for a mop. Shane tried hard not to think about what he was using it for.

A few minutes passed and Ryan pressed a steaming mug of tea into his hands. He lifted the mug to his mouth and simply breathed in the smell, hoping it would cover up the scent of bleach.

When the bleach faded into the aroma of air freshener, Shane watched Ryan wash his hands in the sink and check the window. It was dark out and Ryan grunted.

"I'm going to take out the trash, baby. You can stay here if you want."

Shane shook his head. Ryan gave him a long, searching look, then nodded. Ryan shut the pantry door and went to get the body. It was wrapped in trash bags like some sort of mummy. The man had been large but Ryan's arms barely shook with the effort of slinging the bags up over his shoulder. Wordlessly, Shane got a shovel from the back of their broom closet. He'd never figured out why Ryan had insisted on them getting one. He knew now.

He opened their front door and Ryan followed him out. If any of their neighbours noticed, they didn't say anything. Perks of living in a shitty area.

Ryan was breathing hard when they made it down to the parking complex. Shane opened the trunk of the car they owned and Ryan tossed the bags in. They got in the front seat together and Ryan turned the key. It took a few turns to coax the sputtering engine to life. They didn't use the car often. Because the store was so close, they were both happy to simply walk to work to avoid other drivers, parallel parking and car vandals. To be honest, the car, like the shovel, was another thing Shane wasn't really sure why they owned. It had been Ryan's money, he hadn't asked questions.

Ryan drove and drove until they were in the desert, the moon full and bright overhead. He pulled over on the side of the road and looked over at Shane.

"You can stay in the car if you want." He said quietly.

Shane bit his lip. "Have you done this before?"

Ryan bared his teeth in a smile that looked like a wince. "Yes. I usually don't bother hiding the bodies, but I've done it before."

"Show me how."

Ryan nodded.

They stepped out into the cold winter night, Ryan getting the body and Shane hoisting the dirty shovel. The first push of the metal pan into the rocky sand sounded like the echo of a gun.

He dug and dug until he hit rocks that he couldn't lift with the shovel, then he got in the hole and started pulling the rocks out with his hands. He piled a few large, flat ones the size of his chest out and set them on the shallow slope of the pit he'd dug.

Ryan nodded and kicked the bags, rolling the body into the hole. He helped Shane pile the rocks on top of the body, placing the largest on the bottom and adding smaller ones so the wind wouldn't expose the body too quickly. Ryan helped him push the sand back into place and they smoothed out the ground with the back of the shovel. Sweat shone on both of their faces when it was done, despite the cold.

Shane walked back to the car and set it in the trunk, his hands steady with exhaustion. He got in the passenger's seat. Ryan got in next to him but didn't start the car yet.

"How are you?" Ryan's voice was quiet, like he was trying not to spook Shane.

"Why?" Shane looked at him.

"Why? Why do I ask?" Ryan's brow furrowed. "Because I know what your first kill feels like."

Shane shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Why did that guy come after you, come after us? Who was he?"

"He was a wannabe mob boss. His main guy was that drug dealer I killed. Remember?" Ryan looked out the windshield, his face unreadable.

Shane nodded. How could he forget? Ryan had carved "You're Welcome" into the man's chest.

"It seems killing that dealer killed his little club, too. He wanted petty revenge." Ryan shrugged.

"Murder is hardly petty." Shane shook his head. "You know, I never did ask you why you killed all those people."

"Does it matter?" His voice was cocky but flat and Shane knew he wasn't talking to Ryan Bergara, his boyfriend, but rather Ricky Goldsworth, the murderer. Ryan had closed off from him. He didn't want that.

"No, it doesn't, god damnit, but I want to know anyway." Shane's words left his mouth quieter than he intended. He reached across the seat to grab Ricky's hand. The man blinked, looking at their hands and processing his words. He blinked again and looked at Shane with warm brown eyes. 

"I killed them because they'd done bad things. Hurt children, raped people. That dealer was getting people hooked on laced heroin. He was lower on my priority list, but I thought you'd appreciate it." He met Shane's gaze. "I'm not great at gifts."

Shane almost laughed. "No, you're not."

Ryan gave him a long look, then leaned over and kissed him. It started as gently as the other kiss had, just a brush of lips, until Ryan curled his fingers in Shane's hair and parted his lips with his tongue. Shane's hands went to his waist as Ryan slid across the seat and into his lap.

"Tell me about it. Your first kill." Shane breathed as Ryan's mouth trailed down to bite at his neck.

"Now?"

Shane's hands slipped underneath his shirt, tracing his spine from between his shoulder blades down to the hem of his jeans. Ryan shivered.

"Now." He muttered.

Ryan sucked a mark over his collarbone and Shane let his head fall back with a groan.

"He was some scummy rapist. Liked to drag girls into back alley ways and make them do disgusting things. I don't even remember his name." Ryan dragged his head forward into a searing kiss. The slide of tongues and teeth was just like it always was for them. Ryan kissed him like they didn't have enough time and Shane loved it.

"I found him in a bar one night, bought him a few drinks. He either didn't realise I wasn't a girl, or maybe it didn't matter to him. He plastered himself all over me by the time we left."

Shane slid his hands back up, bunching Ryan's shirt up under his armpits until he relented and twisted out of it. He ran his hands across the smooth skin, the edge of his thumb brushing a nipple. He smiled into the kiss when Ryan's breath hitched.

"We went back to his place, he started trying to kiss me but he was too drunk to see straight. I got him out of his clothes, laid him down on his bed. He kept calling me darling, telling me what nice hips I had."

Shane growled at that, one hand dropping to Ryan's hip and squeezing possessively. He dragged his other hand over his nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, delighting in the gasping little moan that Ryan let out.

"I pushed him down on the bed and I got out my knife. It was just a little thing, back then. I didn't know where the vital spots where, so I just guessed. I brought my knife down as hard as I could and something cracked. His rib cage, I think."

Ryan rolled his hips down, grinding against him and Shane scraped his teeth against his throat in retaliation. Shane brought his hand down to palm at Ryan's jeans, drawing another moan out of him. Ryan leaned in and nipped at his bottom lip, his hands dropping to fumble at the button on Shane's jeans. Shane was quick to help him.

"Blood started coming out of the wound as soon as I pulled my knife out. His eyes were so wide, but he didn't even scream. Didn't even move. Just stared at me. He was too drunk, I think. I stabbed him again, over and over until I was up to my elbows in the stuff. He was totally still when I was done."

Ryan's voice broke as Shane pulled him out, pressing their cocks together in one of his big hands. The drag of their skin together was good, so good, and Ryan's head dropped to his shoulder, panting in Shane's ear, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. After just a few strokes, Shane swiped his thumb across their heads and Ryan came with a shuddering groan, biting down on Shane's shoulder. Shane followed him over the edge a moment later.

For a few minutes, they were still, Ryan in Shane's lap, sitting in their car out in the desert outside Los Angeles where they had just buried a body, not another soul for miles. Catching their breaths.

"You alright, big guy?" Ryan asked softly, tucking them back in.

Shane nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."

"Good." Ryan wiped them off with his discarded shirt, tossing it into the back seat and sliding off Shane's lap. He pressed a kiss to his cheek and started up the car. "Let's go home, baby."

**Author's Note:**

> I love pet names. Also, I wasn't gonna have this be explicit rated but my hand slipped whoops. Tell me if any of this even makes sense, I've been hardcore hallucinating all day so I don't really know how much is actually real.


End file.
